Mustard on French Fries
by Saturn Bracelet
Summary: Natalie doesn’t see what’s so wrong with mustard on french fries. NatalieMichael friendship and eventual romance.
1. Chapter 01

**Disclaimer: **Don't own.

**A/N #1: **Natalie/Michael friendship and eventual romance. Set maybe a few months from what's going on with the show right now (as of early June).

**A/N #2: **I still consider myself a John/Natalie fan, but let's just say that the both of them have been irking me lately (although John more so). And I like the Nat/Mikey tentative friendship. It's _fun_! Hence the idea for this fic.

**A/N #3: **(This is it, I swear!) Reviews would be much appreciated. :)

**Chapter 1—**

Natalie Vega had finally had enough. There was only so much misery and humiliation that one woman could take. She was done with it all. She was finished with the games and the stupid plans that nearly got herself killed. She was finished chasing after men who didn't want her—or at the very least couldn't _admit _that they wanted her. In the end, it simply wasn't worth it.

It felt strangely liberating to let John McBain go. Or the idea of John McBain anyway. The idea was always more romantic than the reality. And the reality was that the two of them would never work out. They _couldn't _work out. Perhaps they were only ever meant to be good friends. But they'd never really been that to begin with. There was always something more; it went largely unspoken, but they were _never _just friends.

They were never anything more either.

Maybe that's why she'd held on for so long. The _possibility _that she and John could potentially become more. It was never fully explored and so she always wondered 'what if'? And it was the 'what if's' that always did her in. It was the 'what if's' that had kept her holding on for so long.

But she was tired of holding on. She was tired of feeding on the scraps that he would throw her. She wanted more. She wanted full and unconditional love. She wanted a man who wasn't afraid to open up. She wanted a man who wasn't consumed by his own demons. She wanted a man who wanted _her _and only her.

She had that once. With Cristian. No one had ever loved her like Cris did and she was beginning to think that no one else ever would. She'd never had an easy go at relationships. Either she mucked it up somehow, or circumstances got in the way.

Circumstances. They could be a bitch.

But maybe she didn't need it any longer. Maybe finding true love that one time—with Cristian—maybe that was enough. After all, that type of love wasn't something that could be recreated. She wasn't even sure that she _wanted _to recreate it. Somehow, that would be taking away from the love she and Cris shared. It would be saying that it wasn't real… that it wasn't special.

If Natalie Vega knew one thing, it was that her love affair with Cristian Vega was the real deal. It was special and she refused to let anything or anyone take that away from her.

But the thing was—she didn't need love any longer. Not that kind of love. Once with Cris—that was enough. She could concentrate all her love on her family—on Vicki, Jessica, Kevin, and Joey. And Rex and Roxy. She could be content with just being Natalie Balsom Buchanan Laurence (boy how she wanted to forget _that_) Vega. She didn't need a second half—a _man_—to complete her. She didn't need John McBain.

Not that she wanted to cut him out of her life for good. They'd been through a lot together. There was a bond there—a connection—that could never be ignored. They got each other because they came from similar backgrounds and like begets like. There were some things about John that she understood better than anyone else ever could. Sometimes she could look at him and it was as though she was inside his head… as though she knew every single thing passing through his brain.

And it was _that _kind of thinking that had caused her to hold on for so long.

Yes, she knew him. She understood him. And vice-versa. He understood parts about her—about her personality—that no one else did. But did that mean they were destined to be together? She was pretty sure that the answer was no.

If she could just figure out _why _things hadn't worked out. Because, really, she _knew _that they didn't belong together. Something in her gut told her that. She just didn't know the exact reason. It probably wouldn't change anything if she _did _know, but that extra bit of clarity, would certainly be welcome.

She sighed and kicked a wayward pebble with her shoe. It went flying and apparently, hit someone.

"What did you do that for?" came a slightly annoyed voice.

Natalie grinned when Michael McBain stepped into the park and into her line of vision. "Haven't you heard—death by pebble; it's all the rage these days."

He smiled his goofy smile and took a few steps closer to her. "You look horrible."

"Gee, thanks Dr. Mikey," Natalie rolled her eyes. "You don't exactly look like a million bucks either. Those dark circles under your eyes—it just screams 'exhausted doctor'. I don't think I'd trust you to take my _temperature_ looking like that."

"I just finished my shift," he explained, ignoring her sarcasm.

"Oh, then you'll want to catch up on some sleep. Please, don't let _me _hold you up."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Oh, you're nothing if not obvious," he threw back, but not in an unkind manner.

She looked down at that. His statement rang truer than she'd like to admit. Obvious. And pathetic. That described her to a tee when it came to Michael's brother, John. So pathetically obvious.

"You all right?" Michael asked, oblivious to the hurt his off-hand comment had caused, but certain that _something _was wrong.

Her head snapped up. "I'm fine. You can cut the doctorly concern."

Michael did a bit of a double take and held his hands up in mock defeat.

"Sorry," Natalie mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm not mad at you."

Against his better judgment—because really, Michael wasn't so sure he really _wanted _to know—he asked, "Who are you mad at then?"

"I don't know that I'm actually _mad_," she admitted. Then she shook her head and amended. "Well, that's not really true either. I'm mad at myself, I guess."

"You _are_ pretty easy to get annoyed with," he jested.

She had a sharp retort already forming on her lips, but it fell short when she saw that Michael's comment was all in good humor. Michael McBain could be very grating and highly annoying when he put his mind to it, but he really wasn't that bad of a guy, she decided.

Well… at the very least, he could be _worse_.

"This doesn't have anything to do with my brother, does it?" came the sudden question.

"What?" Natalie feigned ignorance. "Why would me being mad at myself have anything to do with…" she faltered, "… with John?"

"You tell me."

"Mikey, much as I appreciate you attempting to be a friend," Natalie began, "the fact is, you and I _aren't _friends. So, no offense or anything, but I don't exactly feel like pouring my heart out to you."

"None taken," he shrugged it off. "But whatever happened, I'd be willing to bet it had something to do with John. I just hope you haven't done anything to…"

"Oh, to mess up his so-called perfect romance with Evangeline Williamson," Natalie spat, dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, nothing to worry about there. Evangeline is perfect and I'm nothing but the needy girl who gets under foot. Am I right? Is that what you were going to say?"

"Not at all," Michael truthfully told her. "I was actually worried about _you_."

Natalie's blue eyes widened in surprise.

"_What_?" she asked in disbelief. "You were worried about _me_? About Natalie? Natalie _Vega_? The red-head standing in front of you?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" Michael laughed.

"Yes. It _is _hard to believe. Try impossible." She looked around at her surroundings and then turned back to Michael. "It _looks _like the same, old park—but maybe we fell into some sort of time-vortex? An alternate reality or something?"

"No alternate reality," Michael assured her. "I was going to _say_," he continued, "that I hoped you hadn't done anything to hurt yourself… such as another stupid plan that very nearly gets you killed?"

"Ahhh, you heard about my latest ill-formed plan. Yeah, well, I'm finished with those."

"Oh, you're a reformed woman, are you?"

"Maybe," she playfully responded. Then more seriously, "I really am finished, you know. My stupid plans are just that… _stupid_."

"So what are you going to do with your free time?"

"My entire life actually _doesn't _revolve around concocting stupid plans, Michael."

"Could have fooled a lot of people."

"It also doesn't revolve around your brother and his girlfriend, contrary to what a lot of people—yourself included—think."

"So _this_… whatever's going on with you… it has nothing to do with John."

"No, it does," Natalie admitted. "But it's not what you think."

Michael sat down on a nearby bench. He patted the empty spot next to him and said to Natalie, "So, explain it to me."

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "I am _not _going to sit here and pour my heart out to you, of all people."

"Why not? There something wrong with me?"

"There's quite a lot wrong with you. But ignoring that, I don't like you very much."

"Likewise."

"So then why do you care?"

"Well, I don't _hate _you," Michael admitted.

"But how does that add up?" Natalie incredulously asked. "You don't hate me, but you don't really like me either. How does that translate into you wanting to play confidant?"

"I'm a curious guy," he shrugged. "Come on, Natalie… sit down."

She thought about it for a half-second and then did as requested.

"Let me ask you something, Michael," Natalie said. "Because at least I know you'll be honest with me." Michael nodded his head at this. "Why do you think that I'm so wrong for John?"

He blinked his eyes. "Do you really want to know?"

She gave him a pointed look. "I asked, didn't I?"

He took a deep breath. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Just get on with it," she impatiently prodded him along.

Michael searched for a way to put things into words. "All right, you know how you like mustard on your french fries? Well, it's like that."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she exploded. "That doesn't tell me anything!"

"Most people like ketchup, don't they?"

"I don't know why," she answered. "That's boring and predictable."

"Right, but some people _need _that."

"They need boredom and predictability?" Natalie asked in confusion. "Why would anyone want that? Life shouldn't be dull or uneventful."

"Not for someone like you," Michael corrected. "You like mustard on your fries and there's nothing wrong with that. But John… he needs ketchup. He needs stability and someone who isn't a… well… you _do _have a tendency to turn his world upside down and knock him off balance."

"But I don't understand why that's a bad thing."

"It's not," Michael insisted. "It's just not what _John_ needs."

"So Evangeline is the ketchup—she's the dull, vapid, and boring one…"

"I was going for the stable and reliable one," Michael corrected her.

"Whatever," Natalie waved it off. "She's dull, vapid, and boring. She's also a know-it-all who has a snobbish streak."

"She's good for John," Michael firmly told Natalie. "It's not necessarily that you're bad… or even wrong for him… you're just…"

"I have the potential to make him miserable because I'm not ketchup," she surmised. "Because I'm not dull, vapid, and boring."

Michael nodded. "Exactly." Then, "Wait a minute, I didn't mean—Evangeline's not…"

"Save your breath," Natalie cut him off. "I get what you're saying. And furthermore, I actually _agree _with you."

Michael was appropriately shocked. "That's got to be a first," he commented.

"Don't look so surprised, Dr. Mikey. I'm tired of being shoved aside in favor of the ketchup. So I'm through with it. From now on, I'm the mustard and if that means I have to sit around by myself, then so be it."

"I think we're taking the whole mustard vs. ketchup metaphor a little far," Michael said, rubbing the side of his head. "What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying that there is no more Natalie and John."

"Not that there ever actually was," Michael added.

Natalie gave him a sideways glare. "Seriously, Michael—I'm dropping out of the race. Me? I'm proud to be mustard."

"I thought we were going to drop…"

"No, I didn't agree to any such thing," Natalie interrupted. "So. That's it."

"You're giving up? Just like that? Forgive me for being skeptical. You don't strike me as the type of person to just willingly walk away. It's something about red-heads…"

"Oh, don't pull out the stereotypical red-head card. I figure that I held on long enough. Time to cut my losses and move on. And besides, Michael McBain," she poked his shoulder rather harshly, "who says I'm a natural red-head?"

Michael laughed heartily at that last bit.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 02

**Disclaimer: **Don't own.

**Chapter 2—**

"Here's my theory," Natalie began. "Now keep in mind that this is a very _new _theory and I reserve the right to revise it in the future."

Michael interrupted. "Natalie, I don't need a novel."

"Fine. The theory is that those relationships where you have to fight tooth and nail to even get the _smallest _victory—those type of relationships just aren't going to work in the long-run. You kind of kid yourself into thinking that once you get over the hard part and the hurdles, that things will settle down and you'll be a stronger couple in the end."

"But that's not the case?"

She shook her head in the negative. "I don't think so anymore. But then again, at this point, I'm tired of fighting in general. I think it would be a nice change for me to have a relationship that falls into place naturally. One that I don't have to manipulate in order to get what I want."

"Such a novel concept for you," he chuckled.

The two semi-friends fell into a lapse of silence after that. They both seemed to be turning things over in their heads.

Natalie soon broke the silence, however.

"I thought you were going home to get some sleep?"

"You distracted me," he off-handedly answered, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"I'm flattered, really," Natalie deadpanned, "but you're kind of zoning out there, Michael. Are you sure you're all right?"

He looked up at her query and met her eyes. Then, as if shaking himself out of a trance, he assured her that he was perfectly fine.

"I actually think that you're onto something with that… with that theory of yours," Michael startled Natalie by admitting.

At first she wasn't so certain what was going on. Then it clicked.

"We're talking about you and Marcie now?" she correctly surmised. "Well, it _is _just a theory. And a theory that doesn't apply to _everyone_. But Marcie obviously still has feelings for you. She practically gave me a beatdown at the hotel that time."

"When?" Michael asked in confusion.

"After our little 'let's play in the rain' moment," Natalie clarified. "When you went up to your room to get me those scrubs, Marcie was about to murder me."

"She was jealous?" Michael asked in astonishment.

"Livid would be a more appropriate word. I thought for sure that I'd talked some sense into her though. I figured it was only a matter of time before you two were back to normal. Not the case though?"

"_Not_ the case," Michael sullenly responded.

"Well, personally, I don't know what she ever saw in you, but that's neither here nor there." Natalie jokingly grinned. Michael glared. "Oh, come on Michael! You and Marcie actually don't _have _to be that complicated. What's really standing in your way? Not a third party…" She trailed off, upon seeing Michael's subtle change in countenance at this mention. "There _is _a third party?"

She promptly slapped him upside his head. He groaned and held a hand up to the offending area.

"What was _that _for?" was the incredulous question.

"You cheated on Marcie! Michael McBain, I always knew you were a jerk, but this…"

"As usual, you are completely wrong," he cut her off. "I didn't mean third party in the literal sense."

"Oh. Well, in that case, sorry about the whole… hitting you incident."

"You apologize, but yet you couldn't be more insincere," he mumbled, still rubbing the side of his head.

She ignored him. "Metaphorically speaking then—the third party…?"

"Different factors. My job… her book… her agent… Al."

Natalie nodded her head in understanding. "Not seeing each other a lot—that's tough."

"It's more difficult to compete with a ghost."

"I'm not so sure if that's fair though, Michael," Natalie insisted. "Granted, I was never Al Holden's biggest fan. And vice-versa." She smiled a bit at the old memories. "The thing is though, of course Marcie will always love him—but that doesn't mean that she loves you any less. It _is_ possible to love two different people for different reasons. It doesn't negate either relationship and doesn't mean that one is more special than the other. It just… means that they're different."

"But that's not really the problem. It's all those things mixed up together. It's like you were saying—things just got too hard. It was a constant uphill struggle and in the end, we hadn't gained any new ground."

"So what are you saying?"

"Well…" he faltered. "I guess that there's no Marcie and Michael any longer."

Natalie watched as Michael slowly rose from the bench. He stood up and walked a few steps. At first, she thought he was leaving. A rather sudden and abrupt departure, but then again, he'd just had an epiphany in regards to his relationship with Marcie. She could understand wanting to be alone.

But then he turned back and faced her again.

"It feels weird," he announced. "To let go once and for all."

"Weird in what way?" Natalie patiently asked.

"Kind of…" Michael paused, searching for the right word. "It feels _liberating_."

Natalie smiled at this. "I know exactly what you mean."

"I can't believe I feel this good about it. I mean, yeah, we've been broken up for several months. But there was always this feeling that if I was just patient, we'd eventually go right back to the way things were."

"And you don't want that any longer?"

Michael sat back down on the bench. He shook his head. "No. I don't."

"Well, congratulations, McBain—you and I both had epiphanies today. Really, I never thought we had so much in common." She paused and then added, "Although, let's not spread that around or anything."

"Should I feel this good, though?"

"I don't see why not," Natalie answered. "Letting something go isn't always a bad thing."

He turned to face her, his eyes bright and his smile wide.

Natalie took in his jubilant expression and the fact that he was smiling from ear-to-ear. She'd seen him wear that same expression several times and every single time, it usually meant the emergence of what she inwardly referred to as 'Giddy Michael'.

Giddy Michael was the same one who had convinced her that playing in the rain and getting soaked to the bone was a good idea. Nevermind that she'd ended up having fun—she could have had plenty of fun withoutrain being involved.

"Whatever you're thinking," she warned him, "_stop _thinking it."

He only grinned more widely. Before Natalie had a chance to… oh, say… run for her life, Michael had grabbed her hand and was dragging her along as though she was nothing more than an afterthought.

* * *

"All right, Michael, for future reference," Natalie said in an annoyed tone, "dragging me around like that? _Not _acceptable. You do it again, and let's just say that you'll be missing…"

"Warning noted, but nevertheless ignored," Michael cut her off.

"Why exactly did you bring me…" she looked around at their surroundings, "… _here_?"

'Here' being the hospital cafeteria. There were any number of reasons that one might end up in a hospital cafeteria, but Natalie couldn't think of a single one for why _she _was suddenly thrust into such a place. Well, besides Michael McBain, that is.

"Are you going to answer my question of not?" Natalie demanded.

"I'll be back in a minute," he said before disappearing.

Natalie felt like throwing her arms up in frustration. Something about the McBain brothers—they both made her want to pull her hair out. In fact, of the two, she wasn't entirely certain which brother was the worst offender.

She spent a few moments contemplating that question and soon enough Michael joined her side again. He ushered her over to an empty table and pushed a pudding cup over to her.

"You brought me to the hospital cafeteria to have… _pudding_?" Natalie asked in bewilderment.

Michael shrugged. "It's great pudding."

"Well, it better be amazing, awe-inspiring pudding. I don't exactly like hospitals… and I dislike hospital _cafeterias_ even more. Besides, didn't you just leave this place? You do realize that it is customary to _leave _your place of employment when you finish your shift?"

"Would you stop talking and just eat your pudding."

Natalie rolled her eyes and sarcastically mumbled, "Yes, Doctor."

She ripped open the lid of her pudding cup and swirled her plastic spoon around, stirring up the contents.

"You don't do any kind of weird ritual with pudding, do you?" Michael questioned. "For my sanity, I _really _hope you don't mix mustard in with it."

"Ignoring you!" she said in a sing-song voice. She took a first bite of Michael's so-called wonder pudding and then promptly declared, "Hey, this is pretty good, Mikey."

"Told you so. Nothing better than celebratory pudding."

"You are truly insane. You know that, don't you?"

He answered with a mischievous lift of his eyebrows and a smirk.

Natalie couldn't help herself from smiling back.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 03

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own it.

**Chapter 3—**

Natalie felt better than she had in a very long time. She walked with more confidence and with her head held high. No need to worry about clothes that accentuated her curves in the right way… no need to worry about if her hair was perfect… no need to worry about ways to get a certain someone to notice her.

She could simply come to work and do her job.

She'd never realized how much time she spent worrying herself over John McBain. It was as though she suddenly had all this time on her hands… and she wasn't exactly sure what to do to fill it.

The result of her free time was spent making coffee and doing little things and favors for the officers at the station. Her uncle Bo had commented on her acting more like the office waitress than the office receptionist. Still… being useful and being appreciated had its merits.

She was also finding that she now had John's attention more than when she'd been actively campaigning for it. The realization had hit her in the middle of the day. She was busy pulling out some files for Bo. She'd been so into the task at hand that she'd failed to notice that John and Evangeline were standing not too far away from her. Normally she would have been hyper aware of either person's presence in her hemisphere and she was amazed to find that breaking that habit wasn't even something that she had to think about.

She'd just forgotten that either one of them existed.

But apparently John hadn't forgotten that _she_—Natalie Vega—existed. When she turned around from pulling those files, his eyes were bearing into her in his typical intense and tortured soul fashion. Natalie laughed inwardly when she noticed that Evangeline was obliviously yapping away about something—her head tilted to the side, as usual. Natalie had often wondered about that head tilt; didn't it hurt her neck to go into that position about fifty times a day?

There was something inside her that was very pleased that she'd managed to capture his attention. But somehow the small victory didn't mean as much as it would have only a few days earlier.

Really, she didn't know why she was so surprised. When she put her mind to something, she usually followed through. This was no exception. She'd made up her mind to let go of John and she was following through. Still… she _did _feel as though it should be harder.

It made her wonder if she'd not been over him for awhile by that point? Like she was just hanging on out of habit. She wasn't sure how much merit there was to that theory… but she had the sneaking suspicion that there was a _little _merit involved.

She went off and delivered those files to Bo and then re-seated herself at her desk. John walked by and distractedly mumbled that, should anyone come in asking for him, he didn't want to be disturbed. She nodded her head to signal that she'd heard the request but otherwise didn't even look up.

The next several minutes were busily spent tinkering around with her computer. Natalie felt as though she knew her way around a computer pretty well and the police computer system was no exception. On the whole, she _didn't _have any problems with the system but every once and awhile she ran into a problem. Usually it just took a bit of thought and possibly a bit of fiddling around and problem solved.

"Ahh! Good girl." Natalie patted said computer when she'd worked her way through her latest disagreement with the piece of machinery.

"Since when are computers gender specific?"

Natalie turned around and found herself looking into Michael's happy brown eyes.

"Nice to see you as always, Mikey," she genuinely smiled, although her tone was sarcastic. "What brings you here today?"

"I'm here to see my brother."

"Oh, well he's busy I think. He said he didn't want to be disturbed. Is it important?"

Michael thought about it for a moment or two before shaking his head and saying that it _wasn't _important. "But maybe I'll wait around for a bit."

"Waiting area is around that corner," she pointed. "Please don't let _me _be the reason why it isn't graced with your presence. We have plenty of magazines. In fact, I think I saw the new issue of _People_. You interested in reading about Brad and Angelina by any chance?"

"Not particularly," he deliberately ignored her sarcasm. "And why would I wait in there, when you've got a perfectly empty chair sitting conveniently next to your desk?"

"Yes, but do you recall me inviting you to use said chair?"

"Now, that's not very nice, Natalie."

Despite her protests, he settled himself comfortably into that chair next to her desk. She heaved a loud sigh but otherwise made no move to dislodge him from her general space. As long as he didn't open his mouth…

"What are you doing?" he nosily asked, peering over her shoulder.

"I like you much better when you're not talking," she informed him. "Silence is so underrated these days. You should try and bring it back," she hopefully suggested. "You know, make it the new fad."

As though he hadn't heard her, he asked, "Seriously, what are you doing?"

"Trying to organize these files," Natalie answered.

"Isn't that a bit unnecessary? They look pretty organized to me."

"Well, they are," she admitted. "But I'm implementing a new filing system."

"Why? Is the current one not working out?"

"Why are you asking me so many questions, Michael? I'm re-organizing things—what's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing. It's just… _busy _work." He broke out into a full smile. "You're trying to keep occupied, aren't you?"

"Well, I'm not paid to sit around all day staring off into space, am I?"

"You're having the same problem as me," Michael surmised. "You have no idea what to do with yourself."

Natalie dropped her unfriendly and argumentative stance and opted for a huge sigh of relief that _someone _finally got it. She twirled around in her chair to face Michael. She spoke to him in confidential tones, just like she might a close friend.

"I never realized how much time I spent thinking and worrying about John."

"It's the same way with me. I spent so much time staring off into space and thinking about Marcie. I kind of feel like, now that I've let it go, I have to stop with that, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," she nodded her head. "What have you been doing then?"

"Well… throwing myself into work. But I have the day off today and so my mind tends to wander."

"You never did strike me as a particularly deep thinker, Mikey," she teased him.

"Don't make fun of someone who is in the same boat as you, Natalie," Michael warned. "I doubt too many other people can identify with you right about now."

"Okay, maybe you're right," she begrudgingly admitted. "So, what are you doing about the whole thing?"

"I was seeking out John in the hopes that he'd get my mind off it."

"_John_? Are you kidding me?" Natalie asked in disbelief. "He'd be just as likely to go into Detective Mode and start asking you questions about the exact thing that you want to get your mind off. Don't you have any friends?"

"Well…" Michael thought about it. "Uh…"

"That is sad," Natalie interrupted. "Very sad."

"Oh, and you can talk because you're… what…? Swarming with friends?"

"I have Jessica," she snootily answered.

"Doesn't count; she's your sister."

"Rex then," she offered with a smile. "He's not my sister. And he's not _technically _my brother either."

Michael raised an eyebrow at her, clearly saying that she was grasping at straws.

"Fine. You made your point," she finally conceded. "But there's something to be said for family. They're always going to be on your side, aren't they?"

"More or less," Michael agreed.

"Maybe you could talk to Dr. Miller," Natalie suggested with a wicked grin. "I'm sure your superior would utterly love you going to her to lament your lack of a love life."

"At least I don't work directly with the very person I'm trying to forget," Michael threw at her, although not maliciously.

"True," Natalie nodded. "And it's made even worse because—well, I'm sure you figured this out for yourself—but I really only took the job to be close to him."

"So then why don't you quit? Put some distance between the two of you?"

"I thought about it," she admitted. "But then I realized that I actually _do _like working here. I like the whole atmosphere and there's always something to do. It makes me feel… useful, I guess. Plus…" she added, "… I'm pretty good at my job, if I do say so myself."

"Oh, well I'm sure it's never stopped you before."

She rolled her eyes at his jab and started to respond but was thwarted when an officer asked her to pull some files. She was surprised to find that Michael had been a welcome break and that she wasn't so keen to leave. Still… it certainly wouldn't do to let _him _know that.

"If you really need to see John," Natalie began, "I'm sure that he could spare a few minutes for you."

Michael thought about it for a few moments, before finally deciding against it. Natalie noticed his look of 'what now' and took pity on him. Well, that and she had no idea what she was going to do once she got off work.

So, she made him an offer.

"I get off in," she looked at her watch, "about an hour or so. You could buy me something to eat? I'm _really _hungry." She paused and then added, "I'm also really good at getting your mind off things." Upon seeing his interested (despite himself, she was sure) expression, she stated, "The diner; one hour. See you then."

Then she skirted off.

* * *

"You're late." 

"Fashionably late," Natalie corrected Michael's proclamation. "Big difference."

He shrugged, signaling that he failed to recognize the distinction. Natalie slid in next to him and stole some of the food on his plate. He stared at her, wondering why she was _always _stealing food from him.

After awhile he gave up and just surrendered his burger and fries to Natalie all together. He opted, instead, to watch her tear into his food.

"_What_?" she asked after a few moments. "Do I have something on my face?"

Michael shook his head.

"So listen," Natalie barged ahead, heedless to his eyes focused on her, "I've been thinking about your situation with Marcie and… well… my situation with John and I think I've got the answer."

"Oh, I'm dying to hear this."

"I'm not sure how this will work out because it _does _require that you and I see one another on a fairly regular basis. I know what you're thinking—what kind of plan is that? Well, we're going through the same thing… both of us are trying to overcome this bad habit of pining away after someone who we can't have. And we've both already taken the step to move on and get past it all."

"Yes, I'm well aware of where things stand," Michael interjected. "Could you get to the point?"

"The _point_ is that we can help each other. If I see you slipping into Marcie-mode, I'll pull you back. And you'll return the favor if you see me slipping into John-mode."

"Kind of like a buddy check?" Michael thoughtfully commented.

Natalie nodded in the affirmative. "I think it could work."

"Yeah, it could definitely work," he agreed. Natalie widely smiled, happy that her idea was being embraced so easily. "_But_… only if we're both serious about it. Like, _really _serious about it."

"I'm committed the cause," Natalie assured him.

"Well, good. I am too."

"So what do you say? Buddy check sound like a good idea?"

Michael extended his hand across the table and shook hands with Natalie.

They sealed the deal with a shared smile.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 04

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it.

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. You guys totally rock:)

**Chapter 4—**

After a particularly draining day at work, Michael plodded into the Hotel with heavy feet and even heavier eyelids. He expected to find Roxy Balsom behind the front desk, as usual. The thought wasn't exactly an appealing one. As tired as he was, the mere thought of Roxy's rather … _unique _voice made him cringe.

He wondered if he could sneak in unseen.

Too bad he didn't take into account that exhaustion doesn't exactly go hand and hand with coordination.

"Wow, that was a memorable entrance," a certain voice belonging to a certain redhead said from above him.

Michael, sprawled out on the floor, face down, groaned and hesitantly looked up to find that Natalie was looking down on him. She obviously found his impromptu swan dive into the carpet _very _amusing.

"Are you all right?" she asked in between peals of laughter.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, slowly beginning to pick himself up off the floor. "Just embarrassed."

"Don't worry about it, Mikey. You just made my day." He frowned at her jesting. She didn't pay it any attention and continued with, "It's _really _boring to sit around and look at the wallpaper peeling off the walls. You know, Roxy really should do something about that."

"I somehow doubt it bothers her."

"She never was one to burden herself with things like that," Natalie admitted.

"Why are you here anyway, Natalie?"

"Oh, Roxy wanted to take the night off, so I'm filling in for her. She _did_ launch into an explanation of why and exactly what it was that she was going to be doing, but I'd taken to holding my hands over my ears and singing to try and drown her out by that point."

Michael laughed. "That was a lengthy way to say that Roxy took the night off."

"Yeah, well, we all know that I very rarely take the easy way out."

"Uh-oh," Michael intoned. "That doesn't sound good."

"Just speaking in general rather than specifics," Natalie waved it off.

"So nothing happened today?"

"Why?" she quickly asked. "Did you hear that something happened today?"

Michael screwed his face up in that comical way of his. Had Natalie not been too busy avoiding eye contact with him, she would have noticed his ridiculous expression (because it really _was _ridiculous). She busied herself with tidying up Roxy's mess behind the front counter and took to ignoring Michael's presence.

Of course, that was always easier said than done.

"_What_?" she finally demanded of Michael.

"Give me the crib notes version," Michael said, leaning his weight against the counter and trying to resist the urge to just sink to the floor and go to sleep. "Short and sweet."

Natalie loudly sighed. "It doesn't have anything to do with John."

"Really?" was the skeptical response.

"Yes, Michael … _really_." She played around with a few stray papers for several moments, before admitting, "Okay, so it had to do with John."

"Mmm-huh. Why am I not surprised? What happened … again, make it short and sweet."

"Okay, well … "Natalie began, "it happened at work today. See, I really _was _minding my own business. I was actually quite busy. You know, I'm still working on that new filing system of mine."

"Still?" Michael repeated.

"Yes, _still. _Now, don't interrupt me, Michael! If you want to hear the whole story, then listen … and don't fall asleep!" She slapped his shoulder at this last part, jerking him back to the present.

"Okay—just get on with it then. I don't need so much exposition, Natalie. Skip the introduction."

"No, because the introduction is important," she insisted. "_So anyway_—I was busy with the new filing system and getting it all set up, when Evangeline stormed past me like an ill wind or something."

"It's too much to hope that you just shrugged it off and went back to work, isn't it?"

"You're interrupting," Natalie sweetly reminded him. "And of course I didn't shrug it off. I'm curious by nature … and it's a small-ish office, so it's not as though I was the _only _one wondering what had happened."

"But I'm willing to bet you were the only one who stuck your nose into it."

"_Michael_," Natalie said through clenched teeth. "Stop with the smart-ass comments. And would you stop slumping over the counter—you're messing things up."

When he refused to acquiesce to her request, Natalie shoved him off herself. After that, he still leaned on the counter, but was careful to avoid any papers or knick-knacks that he could possibly disturb.

"Okay, so yes, I was curious. Obviously something had happened between Evangeline and John to cause her to go storming out of the place like that. And you know what—people forget this, Michael, but long before there was an Evangeline Williamson in the picture, John and I were _friends_. Everyone—yourself included, so don't look at me as though you're innocent—thinks that I'm just the evil interloper who wants to get rid of the competition. Granted, I wouldn't mind if that prissy schoolmarm took a flying leap off a cliff, but that isn't the point."

"Do you actually _have _a point?" Michael heaved a loud sigh. "In case you haven't noticed, I am exhausted. Please. Get. To. The. Point."

"_Fine_," Natalie glared. "I went into John's office. And I well and truly had nothing but pure intentions this time. I just wanted to see if he was okay. Despite everything that has happened, we're still friends. Well, I'm not so sure anymore after what happened, but…"

"_Natalie,_" Michael warned. "You're getting off track.

"I asked if he was okay and if he needed anything. I mean, I was simply being concerned for a _co-worker_. If Uncle Bo had gone in there and asked the same thing, would John accuse _him_ of trying to manipulate the situation? No," she sarcastically mumbled, "because _I_ represent everything that is evil in this world."

"No offense or anything, Natalie, but it's not that big of a stretch for _anyone _to think that you were trying to manipulate the situation."

"You think I was trying to cause trouble?" she asked him in a hurt voice (although it would be unlikely Natalie would ever admit that).

"Surprisingly, I actually believe you," he assured her. "You and John _are _friends, but honestly—in what world would you think that it would be appropriate for you to stick your nose into his business with his _girlfriend_."

"Okay, so in retrospect, it _wasn't _the smartest thing to do. But did John need to yell at me and order me around like a stray dog? I know I have a tendency to ignore some of the crap that comes out of his mouth, but really Michael, in my defense, a lot of what John says _is _crap. But anyway, I mean—all he had to do was tell me that he didn't want to talk about it or that it wasn't any of my business and I would have left. _Instead_, he yelled at me and it pissed me off. I mean, it had me seeing red, Michael. I'm sure it's hard for people to believe that I just gave up when it comes to pursuing John, but the fact is, that's _exactly _what happened. And being accused of something that I wasn't trying to do just got under my skin."

"So what happened?" Michael eagerly asked, finding himself interested in the whole sordid tale.

"I yelled back at him. I mean, I really _yelled_. And things came out."

"What kind of things?"

"Just … all my frustration and anger at him. You know, he's the King of Mixed Signals. You wonder why I stuck around for so long? It's because of all the mixed signals. I'd think I had it figured out and he'd just throw another one out that confused me even further. So, I took out all my anger on him and it escalated into an argument and … well … long story short, Uncle Bo had to drag me outside to keep me from maiming your stupid brother."

When Natalie had finished her tale, Michael stared at her as though he didn't know how to react. She began to wonder if he'd fallen into some kind of waking coma after a few, silent moments.

But then he started laughing.

_Loudly_. Very loudly.

Natalie frowned at his reaction. It seemed to come out of absolutely nowhere and she wasn't entirely certain as to what was so funny about the situation anyway. So, she resorted to her 'Natalie-is-irked-at-Michael' glare. With all the practice she was getting, she could practically take out a patent on that glare.

"Oh, come on Natalie," Michael said in between peals of laughter, "_that _is funny. You were dragged out of the police station by the commissioner to avoid the possibility that you would maim your sort-of-ex."

"I don't see what's so funny about it," she pouted. "It was embarrassing."

"No, it's funny," he reiterated.

"I somehow doubt you'd think so if it had been you."

"I wouldn't have ever found myself in such a situation to begin with. You see, I can mind my own business."

"No you can't!" Natalie was quick to contradict him. "That is a bold-faced lie, McBain. Ever since you broke up with Marcie, all you _do _is butt into other people's lives. John's, mine, … the prissy schoolmarm's."

Despite himself, Michael had to laugh at Natalie's new nickname for his brother's girlfriend. "Where are you getting 'prissy schoolmarm' from?"

"Oh, one of the officers at work said she looked like his old high school principal. It was because of the way she had her hair up the other day." Natalie suddenly shook her head. "Michael! You're avoiding the issue. The issue is that _you _butt into other's people's lives far more often than I do. Don't play the sainted one; you are _far _from perfect."

"Fine. But I _do _know where to draw the line. Seriously Natalie, whether or not you had good intentions today …"

"Which I did!" she interrupted him to exclaim.

"And I believe you. But you have to realize that you simply _can't _get involved in anything having to do with John and Evangeline as a couple. No matter what your intentions are, it's going to be misconstrued and you'll probably just end up making the situation worse."

She groaned. "I hate it when you're right, McBain." Then, "But still! John didn't have to treat me the way he did."

Michael shrugged. "I suppose not. But you should have stayed out of it."

"You don't have to keep reiterating that, Mikey. I get it."

"Good."

* * *

"Michael?" Natalie called out to him. When he didn't answer, she grabbed a nearby newspaper, rolled it up, and went over to where he was dozing on the couch in the lobby. She stood in front of him for a few seconds, attempting to talk herself out of rudely waking him. 

But in the end, compassion didn't win.

She whacked him on the back of the head with the rolled up newspaper, startling him awake. His disorientated eyes took a moment to focus, but when they did, he stared at her in shock and disbelief.

"What'd you do that for?" he whined, rubbing the back of his head.

"You were snoring," she explained. "_Loudly_."

"I don't snore," he asserted. Then, less confidently, "Do I?"

"Afraid so," Natalie nodded. "Obviously you're exhausted and you're certainly not providing _me _with any entertainment, so why don't you just go upstairs and get some sleep?"

"Why so quick to get rid of me?"

"Because you've been snoring for the past thirty minutes. It's very annoying. Go to bed."

"Sadly enough," Michael began, rising to his feet, "I think this couch is more comfortable than my bed."

"Yeah? Well, that's what you get for living in a run-down hotel. I mean, no offense or anything, but I'd think you'd want better for yourself."

"Like you can talk—you're still living at home with your Mommy."

"Ahhh, but I have lost time to make up for. I didn't even know she was mother until a few years ago. So, it's perfectly acceptable for me to live with her and Jess." Natalie paused and then confided in Michael. "I actually was thinking of moving out though. Getting a place of my own."

"How come? Did something happen?"

"Oh, no. Everything's fine," she was quick to correct him. "It's just—I was thinking that it might be a good idea to start over again. Start fresh … I mean, the first step was obviously letting go of my pursuit of John. The second step could be getting a place of my own."

"Heh," Michael was surprised, "that actually makes sense."

"Oh, imagine that. _Natalie_ makes sense," she rolled her eyes. "It's been known to happen, Michael."

"I should do that too," he suddenly decided.

"Do what? Make sense?" Natalie asked in bewilderment. "Well, it couldn't hurt anything, that's for sure."

"No—move out of this hotel and get a better place to live," he clarified.

"Oh, lovely. Well, I haven't decided yet. It was just an idea."

"We should do it together!" Michael exclaimed in a fit of exuberance. "We could get an apartment together."

"Okay, do you realize who you're asking to be your roommate? I know we've been getting along lately, but do you really think we could live together without blood shed?"

"Why not?"

Natalie looked at him as though he'd sprouted a second head. Then she went over and patted him on the top of his head, as though he were a silly child.

"Go to bed, Michael. You're delirious."

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 05

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it.

**Chapter 5—**

"I still can't believe that I agreed to this," Natalie was busy mumbling to herself. "And why do I always get blamed for _everything_? One of these days I'm going to start believing the propaganda and declare myself the next coming of the Antichrist …"

"What are you carrying on about?" Michael asked, watching with a bemused expression while Natalie attempted to lug an overfilled box full of clothes up to their newly acquired apartment.

"Oh, nothing," she grunted. "Do me a favor—you've got manly muscles; _you _lug this thing upstairs. I'm obviously not making much progress with it."

Natalie scowled when he picked up the box as though it were as light as a feather.

"Show off!" she called after him before following him upstairs.

Once Michael had safely placed her box of clothes into her newly claimed room, he turned around and faced the reluctantly grateful red-head.

"I gather _you _had a confrontation of sorts today?" he said.

"Yup," she nodded in confirmation. "It's happening with alarmingly frequency these days." When she saw his look of commiseration, she realized. "You two? Who bitched _you _out."

"Well, I'm not so sure I'd call it _'bitching'_, per say … but accusatory tones were used in abundance."

"_Marcie_," Natalie gathered. "You know, I thought I heard high-pitched shrieking earlier, but I put it down to an animal being slaughtered in a ritualistic Satanic sacrifice of sorts. But it was Marcie, huh?"

Michael glared, not finding Natalie's sarcasm the least bit amusing.

"Oh come on, Mikey!" she exclaimed. "You can see where I might get confused." Apparently Michael could see no such thing. "Okay, fine. I apologize. You can tell me about it … if you'd like."

Michael ran a hand through his dark hair and then promptly plopped down on Natalie's new, never-been-slept-in-before bed. Then he launched into his sad (more like _hilarious_, in Natalie's opinion) story.

"She hit you?" Natalie asked in delight. "How hard? Did she leave a mark? _Where _did she hit you?"

"Try and keep your concern under control," he drolly commented.

"I don't understand why she was mad with you to begin with. How does your moving out of the hotel effect her in _any _way?"

"Ironically enough, she's jealous."

"Of what?" Natalie asked confusedly. Then her eyes lit up in recognition. "Of _me_? Oh, now I know she's delusional. I happen to think I'm an amazing and truly wonderful person, but realistically—_who _would be jealous of me? I spent the better part of a year humiliating myself, as numerous people have recently told me, and now I somehow got suckered into living with … of all the people in the world … _you_. No offence or anything," she off-handedly threw in.

"None taken," he muttered. "Actually, the whole encounter was … _bizarre_."

"Well, Marcie is bizarre in general."

"_Natalie _…" came the warning glare.

"Oh, all right. You're not yet to the point where you can insult your ex. It's okay—you'll get there soon enough."

"You're insulting John now, are you?"

"Oh yes," she vehemently nodded her head. "After that blow-up at the police station, I've taken to referring to him as McIdiot. Not to his face, of course—although if he keeps up with the tortured, 'please-don't-hate-me-Natalie-I'm-just-a-confused-emotionally-unstable-moron' looks, then I _will _start calling him McIdiot to his face. Rex suggested a truly brilliant nickname the other day, but well … it was kind of indecent … and seeing as how John is your brother, I'll spare you."

"Your kindness knows no bounds," Michael sarcastically rolled his eyes.

"I know," she brightly smiled. "Are you okay though? About Marcie?"

He did a double take at her sudden bout of concern. "No, I'm fine," he quickly asserted. "Everything is peachy."

"You're a horrible liar. I know you still have feelings for Marcie. You're far too obvious, Michael. There's no subtlety to you … now, if Marcie wasn't such a simpering, blind idiot, she'd have seen this ages ago and you two would be together."

"Forgive me for interrupting your little monologue," Michael interjected, "but didn't the two of us—that is to say, you and I—make a deal to move on once and for all from Marcie and John … respectively, of course?"

"Yes."

"So then why do you seem to be championing me and Marcie?"

"Trust me, I'm doing no such thing. I'm just merely pointing out a simple fact. You're an obvious idiot. And Marcie is a clueless idiot. Match made in Heaven, really."

"Do you realize that the same applies to you and John?"

"Are you calling your own brother a clueless idiot?" Natalie jabbed.

"And for good measure, I'm calling _you _an obvious idiot," he confirmed. "You know, Natalie—a month ago, I never would have thought the two of us had so much in common."

"Get out of my room, McBain," Natalie shooed him out, laughing all the while.

* * *

"You never told me who your confrontation was with," Michael said to Natalie later that night.

"You're right. I didn't."

"Don't attempt to play coy—you're not the least bit effective at it."

"Oh fine!" Natalie exclaimed. "It was Nora."

"Nora?" Michael repeated, as though he couldn't grasp the concept. "Why would she have a problem with you?"

"Oh, she was sticking up for her best gal-pal, is all," Natalie shrugged it off. "But I don't know … after some consideration, I can give Nora a bit of a free-pass. You know, she kind of married a gay psychopathic murderer. She's not exactly the most rational of people these days."

"But what was the topic of conversation?" Michael asked, still in a state of confusion. "I can't think how you and I moving in together has any effect on Evangeline. Wouldn't that be a _good _thing for her?"

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Natalie said flippantly. "Apparently Nora and Evangeline operate on some kind of other plane of existence. It's good to know that you agree with me, though."

"Now, I didn't say that," Michael was quick to contradict. "Knowing you, there were nasty words flung."

"I don't fling nasty words unless I am provoked. Oh, look, the only thing that happened was that Nora felt as though she owed it to the whole of humanity to make sure that I wasn't moving in with you in some desperate bid to nab McIdiot all to myself. The general thinking, apparently, is that I'm a manipulative shrew and am using, poor Clueless Mikey to further my plans for world domination."

"Yes, Natalie—that is exactly what everyone thinks," Michael chuckled, despite himself. Then he realized something. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "I'm not clueless!"

"But the general population seems to _think _you are," she sweetly pointed out. "You know—susceptible to my evil charms." She paused to consider. "Come to think of it, that wasn't as comforting as it sounded in my head."

"It never is, is it?"

"Oh, Michael, don't go all introspective on me. Do you know what I've realized? This is all we ever talk about—our various confrontations and relationship problems. That's going to get boring after awhile, don't you agree? Don't you have any interesting stories? You're a doctor, after all."

Michael thought about it for a minute. He thought about it for a lot longer than a minute. He thought about it _deeply_. Very deeply.

"You're pathetic," Natalie finally decided. "A sad excuse for a doctor. I _know _that you see interesting things every day. People come in the hospital doors and present you with cool stuff all the time. Like … pus-filled boils or really nasty rashes? Don't you get to solve the occasional rare-disease case?"

"Well, I just can't think of anything that interesting at the moment," Michael admitted. "Besides which, seeing pus-filled boils and really nasty rashes isn't exactly as interesting as you might think. And no, I don't get to solve the occasional rare-disease case. There are people called _diagnosticians _who do that."

"Why didn't you become one of those then?"

"Because I don't have any interest in that field!" Michael declared. "Why are you asking so many questions anyway? You've _never _been this interested in me before."

"Now, that simply isn't true, Mikey," she teased. "You're truly a fascinating specimen of the human variety. Why, your very presence leaves me in shock and complete awe. It's like there's this bright halo around you that positively lights up your gorgeous, ickle face." At this last part, she pinched his cheek playfully. "Get over yourself, Michael. We don't have a t.v. yet … I'm just trying to fill in some time before I head off to bed."

"Haven't you ever heard of a book?" he sulked.

"You know," she ignored him, "I think we're going to have fun … you and I. As long as you don't have a penchant for walking around naked. You don't, do you? Because I don't really think I'd enjoy living with an exhibitionist."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, _this _is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Michael never knew how true that statement would end up being.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 06

**Disclaimer: **Nope, I still don't own it.

**Chapter 6—**

"Hey Natty!" Rex exclaimed in his usual boisterous and over-the-top fashion. He shoved past his sister and strode into her apartment. "Wow! _Nice _place."

"Life is complete!" Natalie smiled. "Rex approves of my living situation. So, what are you doing here?"

"I can't come to visit my big sis?"

"Of course …" Natalie trailed off. "But you generally don't unless you want something. So what do you want?"

"Nothing, actually," Rex truthfully told her. "Although I did learn something utterly fascinating this afternoon. Something that you'll just sink your teeth into. You interested?"

"Depends what it is," Natalie almost wearily answered. "The last time you had fascinating news, it led to me humiliating myself once again."

"I can hardly be blamed for what you actually _do _with the information," Rex rolled his eyes. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

"Go ahead," Natalie gave him permission.

"I was at the hospital …"

"What were you doing at the hospital?"

"I was giving blood. Anyway—"

"You were _not _giving blood," she scoffed.

"Does it really matter why I was there? The point is that I _was_. And I happened to hear …"

"You mean you were eavesdropping," Natalie interrupted again to put in.

"Fine, yes, yes. I was eavesdropping. You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well, it's not what normal people consider a redeeming characteristic is it?"

"Then no one is Llanview is normal, because eavesdropping is the extracurricular activity of choice in this town." Natalie had to give him that one. Llanview citizens (herself included) did enjoy eavesdropping like no other. "Now, where was I? Oh—I was at the hospital and I just happened to chance upon McBain … "

"Wait a minute … _which _McBain? Idiot or Doctor? Although I don't know why John would be there …"

"Oh, we're still calling him McIdiot?" Rex proudly grinned at his sister. "I still like _my _name better."

"Rex, come on," Natalie whined. "Would you just get on with it?"

"_Doctor_. He was doing something or other … writing in charts … blah, blah, blah. Kind of boring really. But it got interesting when _Idiot _came around the corner."

"Ooooh! John showed up to talk to his brother," she sarcastically drawled. "That's hardly what I'd call fascinating news, Rex."

"No, the fascinating bit is what John _said_."

"Fine. I'll bite. What did John say?"

"Oh, something along the lines of Michael better not hurt you."

Despite the line being delivered in an off-hand and seemingly unimportant fashion, it hit Natalie like a ton of bricks right to the face. At first she was too stunned to do anything, let alone form words and _express _them.

"Whoa Natty, what did that bag do to you?"

She looked down at her handbag and realized that, somehow, she'd managed to pull the handle off. She raised her eyes back up to Rex and then discarded the now useless bag.

"What did Michael say?"

"Actually _that _was the interesting part," Rex admitted. "He launched into quite the impassioned speech. I think you might be rubbing off on him, Nat, because he turned it all around on John. Talked about how _John _was the one who had hurt you and that he had no right to play God in your life. I wish you could've seen McIdiot stalk away with his tail between his legs. We could've had one hell of an evil cackle together over _that_."

Natalie had to laugh at that scenario.

"Did either one of them see you?"

"Nah. But I have something else to say—"

She rolled her eyes. "_Why _am I not surprised."

"Are you playing at something here? Trying to pit brother against brother? Because if you are, I have to say … _good _plan. And it's working brilliantly so far."

"First of all, Rex," Natalie began, irked by his assumption, "I'm not pitting anyone against anyone. Least of all the McBain brothers. Michael, while he sometimes gives off the impression that he can't walk and chew gum at the same time, actually has a mind of his own and he doesn't need me to think for him. John … well, I don't know what's going on with him lately. He'd probably be better off if I _did _think for him, but that's beside the point. He's just … screwed up. And yeah, that's rich coming from the likes of _me, _but I can honestly say that I don't care anymore. And the fact that he had the nerve to try and butt into _my _life, when he bitched me out last week for … well, he can just go to Hell."

"Maybe you should go tell him that?" was Rex's suggestion.

"You know what?" Natalie said, her eyes lighting up. "You're right."

She grabbed her broken bag and marched over to the door. Rex watched with a wide smile on his face. She opened up the door, but then stopped and turned back around to face her brother.

"Promise me something, Rex?"

"What's that?"

"Bail me out if I end up getting booked for assault?"

"You can count on me, Natty," he saluted her.

"All right," she nodded. When he plopped down onto the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table, making his self right at home, she just _had _to say something. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm waiting right here until you get back. I expect a blow-by-blow account. Metaphorically speaking, of course," he added.

"But …"

"Unless you want me to trail along after you?" he suggested. "Shadow you. You know, come to think of it, maybe you _do _need someone to protect you."

"I don't need you—or _anyone—_to protect me. Fine. You can stay here. But don't … burn down the place or anything. And don't touch anything that belongs to Michael—he's kind of touchy about that sort of thing. Also, don't eat all our food …"

"Would you go already?"

* * *

"Hey Natalie!" Michael called out as he flung the door open. "I brought you …" he trailed off when he saw a certain blond lounging on the sofa, "… something," he finished. "Rex, what are you doing here? And where's Natalie?" 

"Oh, she's out taking care of something," Rex replied, without looking away from the television for one second.

"And she let you hang around here?"

"Why not? I'm family, after all."

"But … I …" Michael stumbled for words.

"Oh relax, I'm not putting down roots or anything. Just waiting until Natty gets back and fills me in."

"Fills you in on what?" Michael curiously asked, moving fully inside and closing the door behind him.

"Oh, nothing. She just wanted to make her feelings known on a certain matter."

"Well, that's never good is it?" Michael disapprovingly commented. "And I bet you encouraged her."

"That's what family does; we support one another."

"Mmm-huh. You encourage Natalie to pursue ridiculous plans that almost get her killed."

"Oh now, come on, this isn't 'attack Rex' day. As Natty has pointed out numerous times, she's got a mind of her own and use it she definitely does. Now," Rex said with a smile, "you got Natalie something? Is it a present? Because I love presents. I could accept on her behalf?"

"That's quite okay," Michael declined the offer. "You know what you _could_ do on Natalie's behalf? _Leave_."

"Nah, she invited me to stay."

Michael loudly sighed, just to show how much the other man's presence was putting him out, but otherwise made no move to remove Rex. After all, he'd probably get a mouthful from Natalie for chucking her brother out on the street. The last thing he needed was a Natalie-induced headache.

Instead, Michael threw his various random items on the coffee table and had a seat on the couch next to Rex.

"Is that the supposed present?" Rex asked in horror. "_Pudding_? No offense, but that's a pretty pathetic attempt at wooing. You could have at least put a bow on it."

"A bow?" Michael repeated in near disbelief.

"Sure. Dress it up. Put a little pizzazz into it. Flash and glitz … girls really go for that kind of thing."

"And putting a bow on a pudding cup equals flash and pizzazz?"

"Not in the slightest," Rex shook his head. "But it's a step in the right direction."

"For the record," Michael said in a confidential tone, "I'm not attempting to woo Natalie."

"Glad to hear it. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to watch t.v."

And that was that. Apparently.

* * *

When Natalie came back home, she was prepared to find Rex still lounging around. She was even prepared to find an annoyed … possibly irate … Michael. What she wasn't prepared for, however, was the two of them sitting on the couch together, watching reruns on Nick at Nite. 

"Hey Natty," Rex greeted her (again, without looking away from the television). "How did it go?"

"It didn't go," she informed her brother.

"You mean you refrained from telling off … well … _anyone_?" Michael asked disbelievingly.

"Don't sound so surprised, Mikey. I have _some _self-restraint."

"Since when?" Rex piped up.

"Don't make me hit you," she warned. "I can't believe you two are co-existing."

"We have self-restraint," Rex echoed her words. "By the way, Michael got you a present."

"Oh really?" Natalie arched an eyebrow. "I _love _presents!" She settled herself in between the two of them. "What did you get me?"

"Don't get too excited," Rex lazily drawled. "It's only …"

"Pudding!" Natalie happily exclaimed, clapping her hands together for effect. "Is this the hospital pudding?"

Michael nodded in the affirmative.

"Hospital pudding?" Rex asked in a state of sheer disbelief. "Is that a euphemism for …"

"No," Natalie cut his rambling off, "this stuff is amazing. You want some?"

"I'll pass," Rex waved her off.

"Suit yourself," Natalie mumbled, sinking further into the couch and opening up her pudding cup. "Thanks Mikey."

"Natty, I'm still waiting for you to tell me what happened. I'm not sure how much longer I can sit through …" he gestured to the apartment as a whole, "_this_. Whatever weird dynamic you two have going on—it's creeping me out. What happened?"

"I told you; nothing. I thought about it …"

"And you decided to do the supposed _right _thing," Rex interrupted, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I can't believe I waited around for this. You disappoint me, Natty. Now he's going to go around thinking he can just …"

"It's fine, Rex," she insisted. "Just leave it alone."

After Rex left, Michael asked Natalie what was going on.

"Who were going to tell off?"

"Your brother," she admitted. "See, Rex overheard what John said to you at the hospital today. And you know, it struck me as a tad hypocritical that he pounced on me last week for butting into his life and then turned around and did the same thing."

"So you went off to give him a piece of your mind?"

"Yes. But then I thought about it. And the way Rex tells it, you already did the job for me."

Michael shrugged. "He caught me at a bad time. Catching up on my charts puts me in a bad mood … I get irritated extremely quickly in such a …"

He didn't get to finish the rest of his sentence, as he was flabbergasted (to put it mildly) when Natalie scooted over and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Thanks, Mikey. For the pudding, I mean."

He swallowed. "You're welcome."

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 07

**Disclaimer: **Nah, I don't own it.

**Chapter 7—**

Natalie wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She felt sticky, grimy, and all around miserable. It was too damn hot to be having "issues" with your air-conditioner. It tended to make a person a touch on the grouchy side when the summer heat was enough to practically broil you alive.

Michael had likened her 'touch of grouchiness' to her resembling that of a feral animal. She'd ceased her choke hold on the building Super and turned to give Michael an innocent look. He'd cracked a smile (despite obviously trying to do no such thing) and sent her back to the apartment while he had a talk with said Super, who had backed up several feet from Natalie once she'd released her death grip on his throat.

So she currently found herself hanging around the inferno that had become her apartment, waiting for Michael to get back. To think—she'd potentially have to suffer though this stifling heat the old fashioned way (meaning sans air conditioning) for _three _days. That was the projected amount of time it would take for the broken part to be ordered and shipped to them. _That _news was the reason the now terrified building Super had found himself on the bad side of Natalie Vega.

She'd lived through plenty of harrowing experiences in her lifetime, but no AC during a record setting hot summer was her breaking point. It simply wasn't going to work.

Michael opened the door and trudged inside.

"So that didn't go well, I gather," she surmised.

"It'll be three days," he confirmed.

"You're too big of a softy. Just let me at him again—I'm sure he'll be able to work something out if his very life depends on it."

"You stay away from him," Michael put an arm out to restrain her. He then broke out into a large grin. "It might not be that bad. People used to live without AC all the time."

"Yes, but we're not in pre-historic times, are we?" she sullenly muttered.

"No." He paused. "We're not."

"You say that as though you had to _think _about it," she laughed at his giant pause. Michael colored slightly at her teasing.

Then he broke out into a huge smile.

"Swimming! Let's go swimming!" he exclaimed, far too jubilant for Natalie's taste.

She thought about it for a few moments. "All right. Let's go swimming. _But _we have to figure out what to do about this situation—it's far too hot to stay here without any air conditioning."

"Okay, okay," he waved it off. "Just go get ready."

* * *

"See, I told you this would be the perfect place!" Natalie triumphantly declared once at the country club. "Not a single soul to be found."

"Why is that?" Michael asked, scratching his head absently. "I thought this place was pretty popular."

"Eh, there's some new hot-spot on the other side of town," she shrugged. "Works for me though."

She threw her things down on a nearby lounge chair and was soon heading over towards the pool. Before she could take more than two steps, Michael caught her wrist and spun her around. Her hair fell into her face and she struggled to flick it away.

"What are you doing?" she asked, in an even voice.

"You can't just dive in like that," Michael protested.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why not? We came here to swim and … oh look … there's a pool _right there_. Diving in sounds like a fantastic option at this point in time."

"Well …" he dropped her wrist from his grasp, "while that's true—don't you think getting burnt to a crisp by the hot sun would only increase your misery and suffering?"

He held up a bottle of sunscreen with a cheesy smile firmly planted on his face.

"You just think you're so clever," was her sarcastic reply. "Hand it over—I'm tired of standing around and conversing with you."

He surrendered the sunscreen and watched as she hastily rubbed it into her skin.

When she got to her back, she found that was a bit of a problem.

"Need some help?" Michael offered, obviously amused by this fact.

Natalie's eyes narrowed and she jerked away from him and crisply informed him that she could handle it by herself. He shrugged, crossed his arms over his bare chest, and watched her attempt this feat.

When she near twisted her arm out of its socket, she finally conceded that she needed help. Michael wisely opted to keep his mouth shut on the matter. He'd likely get a verbal beatdown, or—with the mood she was in today—a _literal _beatdown.

When he was finished, he announced, "Okay, all done."

It took a half second before Natalie was, once again, heading off toward the pool.

And once again, she was thwarted.

"What now, Michael?" she groaned.

"Now you can return the favor," he said, while gesturing to the bottle of sunscreen and turning around.

Natalie stared at his broad back for a moment or two, seemingly in some kind of trance. Then she shook her head and slapped sunscreen over him in a very haphazard and rushed fashion.

"Think you can handle the rest by yourself, Mikey?" she sweetly inquired, already jumping into the pool before he had a chance to answer.

Amusing girl, that one, Michael laughed to himself.

* * *

Natalie laughed somewhat maniacally after she'd managed to dunk Michael under the water for about the fifth time in a fairly short interval. He rose to the surface sputtering and looking suitably irked. She offered a mere shrug of her shoulders before splashing him in the face and darting off under the water.

Michael, for his part, felt as though he should … oh, say … _ignore _her antics. The problem with Natalie was that, no matter what she did, she wasn't a person that could be easily ignored. Everything she did seemed to warrant attention. There wasn't a person who met Natalie that turned around and forgot her.

"You're no fun," she pouted. "Are you just going to sit there and let me abuse you all day?"

"I hardly think dunking a person qualifies as abuse," he flippantly answered.

"Oh, I don't know about that. Especially if one does it repeatedly. Which I have. You should be angry."

"Are you trying to _talk_ me into being angry with you?"

She didn't bother to answer and instead shot him an impish smile. Then she splashed him. _Again._ He closed his eyes and counted to ten. Ignore. Natalie. Vega. Do. Not. Maim. Violence, bad.

"It's getting kind of late," he opted to inform his red-headed swimming companion.

She swam closer to him. "Yes, Michael. It is. What's your point?"

"Maybe we should figure out what we're going to do. You said that you didn't want to stay in the apartment without any AC. You planning on staying with your mom or something?"

"Yeah, I think so," she nodded. "She'd feel highly insulted if I _didn't_."

"Does Vicki Davidson get insulted?" Michael mused. Somehow he couldn't imagine Vicki throwing a temper tantrum over being slighted or 'insulted'.

"What do you mean does she get insulted? That's not an emotion exclusive to us mere plebeians," Natalie laughed at his ridiculous question.

"I just meant …" he started to clarify, but then gave up. "… just, nevermind."

She laughed again. "What about you? You could come stay at Llanfair too, if you want? There's certainly enough room and I doubt Mom would mind. I'm not quite sure _why_, but she actually seems to like you."

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Eh," Natalie answered. "I suppose not. You're not really _that _bad."

"Gee, thanks," he sarcastically said.

"Do you want to stay at Llanfair or not?" she extended the invitation again. "Seriously, I'm sure that you'll be more than welcome."

"That's really nice," Michael admitted, somewhat flattered that she'd invite him. "But I think I'll just get a room at the hotel. I'm sure Roxy wouldn't mind having me back for a couple of days."

"Roxy likes you too," Natalie nodded. "Your life isn't complete until you've gotten a commentary from Roxy on the _hot-man-flesh_ living at her hotel. You made the list quite a bit, I seem to recall."

Michael's cheeks colored at her playful jabbing.

"Hot man flesh?" he repeated in near disbelief.

"What's the matter? You don't like the idea of Roxy oogling you?"

"No, it's kind of …"

"Scary?" she offered.

"That would be one way to describe it."

At Natalie's mega-watt smile, Michael splashed water right in her face.

"Finally!" she happily exclaimed. "He stoops to my level! Took you long enough, McBain."

She launched herself at him and gave him an impulsive hug.

Then she promptly dunked him for the sixth time that afternoon.

**TBC**


End file.
